


Memory Lane

by Thunder_the_Wolf



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 22:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunder_the_Wolf/pseuds/Thunder_the_Wolf
Summary: Anthony Rodriguez is twelve years old when a butler says that the Starks, who have just lost their son, want to adopt him. Weirdness ensues as he tries not to get too wrapped up in their lifestyle and remember his parents’ hard-working roots.





	Memory Lane

**Author's Note:**

> In a world where Tony Stark was adopted but old enough to be remember it, how would certain things play out?

This place is strange, and he doesn't know what he's supposed to do, so he does nothing. He sits on the floor in the center of the carpeted room that the butler claims as his, and eventually he falls asleep there. The floor is what he's used to. Not because the orphanage is bad, but it is a bit crowded. He earned something of a second income for the place as a mechanic. (Sure, I'll fix your radiator and see why your sink is backed up. Of course I'll figure out why your brand new TV is running static. It shouldn't be doing that, sir. I can get my brother to mow your lawn for you as well, would you like that?)

Richie wasn't really his brother. Richie was a couple years younger than him, but still able to get cash for work just like everybody else. He was a master with machines almost as much as Tony was, and would probably go on to actually be a mechanic. 

At any rate, someone is shaking him awake and he knows exactly who it is. 

“Stop it, Collin, you get breakfast when the Mickers say you do.” 

The shaking persisted, with a strange voice calling his name, and he eventually opened his eyes. 

“Can I help you?” He deadpanned. It was the butler from the day before. 

“The floor can't be that comfortable.” He offered. 

“Better than hardwood.” Anthony snorted. “Don't get me wrong, I'm not some abused headcase. The orphanage just gets crowded every now and then. Is something wrong?” 

“I simply wished to inform you that breakfast is almost ready.” 

“Cool. Is it always ready around this time?” 

“Most of the time. If I'm not the one to wake you, someone else on the staff will.” 

“Thanks for that.” Anthony offered before looking around the room. 

“Did I bring my clothes in here?” He muttered to himself. 

“There are some clothes that should be your approximate size in the drawers, Anthony.” 

Sure enough, the 12 year old spotted a chest of drawers nestled in a corner of the room. 

“I shall leave you to get dressed.” The butler offered. 

“I'll be down as soon as I'm done.” Anthony informed him.

“I assume so.” Jarvis acquiesced. 

  
  


Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*  
  
---  
  
  
  


That left Anthony to go through his new clothes and survey his room. The walls were a light shade of green with emerald trim, the curtains over the window matched the trim, and the floor was a nice beige color that didn't remind him of dog poop in the slightest. He rifled through the drawers to find several pairs of jeans that fit him perfectly and a bunch of t-shirts that had cartoon characters on them. The Flintstones wasn't his favorite show ever, but he'd wear it. Why not? They had Scooby Doo, Tom and Jerry, Pink Panther and Looney Toons, so that more than made up for it. They even had a couple shirts with cartoon characters that weren't even out yet. GI Joe and ThunderCats had been advertising lately, but wouldn't come out for another year. Maybe these folks wouldn't be so bad after all. Or maybe it was just the butler. 

 

Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*  
  
---  
  
 

Okay, so it wasn't just the butler. Howard Stark liked to talk shop at the breakfast table (which was pretty damn big) despite his wife's best efforts to appear normal. Anthony got wrapped up pretty quickly when he heard the words Stark Industries pour out of the man's mouth, and Howard knew it. 

“If you're interested, I might take you on a tour of the R&D department. I have government contracts, so you won't be able to see everything we're working on, but I do have some things out for civilians.” 

Maria Stark’s charities were no secret, and while Howard was a genius, Anthony doubted that he was willing to focus solely on civilian products. Then again, not all wars involved the US, so something had to keep the company going during peacetime. 

“If you don't mind, I'd like that a lot.” Anthony responded. 

 

Breakfast continued to be a relatively silent affair, after which Jarvis and the others collected their dishes and Howard went about his day. Maria asked a few questions about how he liked the room before doing the same. 

“Edwin tells me you slept on the floor last night.” A woman with dark brown hair and green eyes approached him after breakfast. Who-? Oh, the butler. (Edwin Jarvis, but only my wife calls me Edwin as it's a name I greatly despise.)

Although he quite liked the idea of the name, Edwin wasn't something he'd bestow on his firstborn (if he ever had one of those, which, after a few years of taking care of kids, he doubted he would.) 

“Was there something wrong with the bed?” 

“Not at all, Miss. I simply had to get used to my surroundings before I could presume anything to be mine. It was absolutely a one-time thing and I apologize if I offended you.” 

“My dear boy, you shall be quite the flatterer when you grow up. You and Howard are quite alike in that way.” 

“I doubt I have anything in common with a millionaire, but whatever helps you sleep at night is fine by me.” 

“Oh, certainly. You'll see what I mean eventually.” The woman assured him. 

  
  


Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*  
  
---  
  
  
  


“Your wife's got a sense of humor, Mr. Jarvis.” 

“Dark brown hair, green eyes?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“That'll never be necessary, my boy.  _ Jarvis _ is just fine by me.” 

“I'll have to get used to that, sir, but I'll never be able to see you as a servant.” 

“Housekeeper.” 

“Housekeeper, then. It'll still take me a bit to get used to that.” 

  
  


Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*  
  
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Apparently school was a must, and he was expected to be some kind of special snowflake just because he'd been Warbucked. Well he said fuck that noise. Yes, he was smart enough to skip a grade or two, but what did that help when there was nothing after high school? Because college sure as hell wasn't free, and his knowledge of how the Earth rotated wouldn't help him as a mechanic. 

“What do you want to do when you're done here?” One teacher asked. Assuming she meant long-term, Anthony has no clue. He could be  _ anything _ , considering the Stark’s insistence on footing the bill. Howard had thrown countless pamphlets at him about various colleges, and he seemed particularly keen on MIT. 

“What's even at MIT, anyway?” He snapped one night. “Like, I get that you all want me to do something with my life but until a couple weeks ago I was actually busy living and now there's just… there's  _ nothing _ here! There's no one to keep track of, no job to do, and it's fuckin weird but now you're all in my face about shipping me off to some random school… why adopt me in the first place if the goal was to have me out of the way the entire time?!” He'd snarled. And nobody had an answer to that, all stunned into silence as they were.

“That… was never the goal. You do realize that you're coming back here when school’s out for winter and summer, don't you? And at this point, I don't give a shit what you do. Get a job as a mechanic, for all I care, but you're going to need to further your education before you do anything.  _ That's _ what I wanted you to think about.” 

“So I'm not being kicked out?” 

“Hell no, kid. You're one of the smartest people I've met. I wouldn't give you back if someone dared to pay me.” Howard scoffed. 

“I… I'd like to check on the other kids every now and then. Is that something that can happen?” 

“We'll do it regardless. You should've told me you were bored earlier. I've got a few things in my workshop that could use your input.”

  
  
  


Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*  
  
---  
  
  
  


Life went on, and Tony (as everyone took to calling him) went with it. He got to MIT just fine, thank you very much, and at the age of 12 at that. He'd have his first degree by the time most kids were getting their high school diplomas, and wasn't that rattling. 

Turns out that it wasn't. Not really. He wasn't as young as he could have been. Old enough to partake in almost anything except for drinking, which he wanted no part of already. 

“Why not?” Twenty-two year old Whitney Frost snorted. 

“You ever been around an alcoholic, sweetheart?” He drawled. Predictably enough, she shook her head. “It's not a pleasant feeling.” 

  
  


Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*Adopted*  
  
---  
  
  
  


“Gettin’ all big for your britches, Mechanic?” 

Tony froze, running the voice through in his head. 

“Fuck off, Lakeland.” He snorted. The other man slid into step beside him and he wrapped an arm around Lakeland's shoulders. 

“You doing alright?” 

“As well as I can be.” 

“Yeah, but that could be anything. You eat recently?” 

Tony recalled with ease the fact that food had sometimes been a scarcity, and the oldest scrounged or went without when that happened. He'd been through a couple winters of that, and it was right around the time that Jarvis had picked him up. All of 12 years old and way past anything a high school could offer him. 

“Not really.” Lakeland mumbled. 

Tony stopped short, forcing his old friend to stop with him. 

“You really think I don't remember what hunger looks like, John?” He demanded. 

“You look like you eat pretty well, to me.” 

“And I've been making sure everyone at the old place does too. Or I tried. You seen anyone from around our age lately?” 

“You can't fix everything with money, Tony. Some of them are sick.” 

“I know that well enough.” He snorted. He remembered what Frankie junior did to the younger kids when he had one of his episodes. Woe be unto any kid who crossed the bio kid's path at that place. They'd be sore for weeks. 

“Thank God they ended up revoking that license.” 

“Actually, I think it had something to do with you.” 

“Me? I never said anything. Are you crazy?! Saying something meant Frankie would hunt you down and beat you bloody no matter where you were.  _ Why _ would I speak up?!” 

“Maybe you wouldn't. Buy someone did. And Frankie had no sway over them.” 

Tony smacked a hand to his head and ran it down his face.

“What happened to Richie and Collin?” He asked, already regretting the answer. 

“College. Last I checked they moved in together. Richie's over at Hammer, if you feel like rescuing him.” 

“Hell yeah. Didn't they buy out Tasco or something like that a few weeks ago?” 

“Yep. Been there since he graduated high school, according to Collin. Man, was that boy pissed.” 

Tony snorted and smothered his next question. Poking around in people's lives got you nowhere if you didn't know how to do it right. Lakeland answered it for him though. 

“They been roommates since Collin dropped outta high school. You'd have been 23, I think.” 

“And they haven't driven each other mad.” Tony snorted. 

“Something like that.” 

Tony stepped away and turned so that he could see the other man's face.

“Come back to the Mansion with me. You look like you could use a drink.” 

Lakeland snorted, knowing good and well that he wouldn't take a damn thing that reminded him of old Frank's place. 

“Alright.” He agreed. “Better be something good.”


End file.
